


Dirty Ren

by GrenkaM, jarethinaren, Scofie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: #404BenSoloNotFound, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Corruption, Detective Noir, Drama, Drinking, Dubious Morality, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Murder, Oral Sex, Smoking, Swearing, Underage Sex, Vaginal Sex, Violence, virgin!rey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2019-10-17 14:02:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17561786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrenkaM/pseuds/GrenkaM, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarethinaren/pseuds/jarethinaren, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scofie/pseuds/Scofie
Summary: “You just have to kill my fucking niece! What's complicated?!” District police inspector Kylo "Dirty" Ren is known for the methods of work. He doesn’t hesitate to take bribes and never refuse a small part-time job. If you hate people, don't keep it to yourself. And here is another made to order arrived.





	1. down payment

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Грязный Рен](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17612417) by [GrenkaM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrenkaM/pseuds/GrenkaM), [jarethinaren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarethinaren/pseuds/jarethinaren). 



> Hi, everyone! I am an author from Russia and this is a translation of the story, originally written in co-authorship. I express my gratitude to the translator! I hope you enjoy the story in spite of language, which I don't speak very well, but can read and understand it good enough!

"You just have to kill my fucking niece! What's complicated?!"

The fat-ass was nervous. Sweat rolled down his pale, green face, and the folds of fat under his baggy clothes shook like jelly. Kylo mockingly raised an eyebrow, grimace and reached for his cigarettes. He smokes anything that burns and smolders, but stolen from his partner some flavored stuff makes him sick.

"Half of the insurance amount," continued meanwhile uncle of the year. "Right away. I can't give you more, I have debts."

Kylo released in a whitish sky the trickle of gray smoke without reply, because the potential customer should be fried until fully cooked. The day was chilly, it was going to rain. However, Kylo was on the car, but how to get out from the territory of an abandoned factory that asshole, he's not too worried. If he's lucky, he'll ride in the trunk in handcuffs.

"Agreed or what?" lardo-ass Unkar Plutt, local pawnshops owner, looked around nervously.

"What?" Kylo was grinning. He knew he was creepy dressed—all in black, mirrored sunglasses-the aviators, and it is a cloudy day. Savvy boots well combined with a hat, but contrasted with a rough jacket. Kylo looked like a dangerous psycho, and the gun that pulled the holster on his belt confirmed it.

"If you're recording, I'll deny it!" Plutt pulled a dirty checkered handkerchief and started to wipe the folds of skin on his forehead and neck.

"I bet," Kylo kicked the leg of an empty beer can, it rattled rolled away into the bushes.

"Look, don’t make fun of me. A hundred grand for some girl that won't even be remembered," Plutt was slowly but surely falling into despair. "Just hurry up—hurry up! Next month I have to go to the Commission, they will check the anonymous complaint... No idea how this bitch filed it. But I need to get insurance before they take custody away from me!"

"And that's why you came to me?" Kylo stomped on the roach. "To the district police inspector Kylo Ren? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I was referred to you," evasively muttered Plutt. "Sort of like... you take care on such things."

"Kill a girl within a month and make it look like an accident?" Kylo took off his sunglasses and stared at the pawnbroker's round face. Kylo called himself a shit collector. This is his job after all. But he never stopped wondering how much of that shit was around. Here, it seems, another curious sample…

"Yes..." Plutt couldn’t resist, bowed his head.

Kylo almost laughed in the jerk's face. He knew what with people do his look of heterochromatic eyes — black and yellow.

"Got a picture?" He asked.  
Plutt slipped him a Polaroid. Girl is nothing special. Hair in buns, frowning, brown eyes.

"How old is she?" Kylo asked. Really simple job—to break her neck and burn the body.

"Seventeen. Her name is Rey Plutt," replied the fucker, picking the ground with his shoe.

"She looks younger," Kylo shrugged. "Obviously not eating enough."

"Who cares?" Plutt was angry.

"If you don't feed your own niece, where you will find the money for the down payment?"

"D-down payment?" Plutt was confused.

"Yes, in such cases the earnest is paid. To performer was sure that the employer will not jump off the topic." Kylo was still looking at the picture. The girl was not a beauty, but attracted his attention.

"Or maybe you could, you know, fuck her, before you kill her? Instead of an advance?" Plutt saw, how Kylo stuck on a photo, and emboldened. No, worse, insolent.

District police inspector Kylo Ren was always looking for the bottom in the shit, and always grinned, getting confirmation that the bottom was not there again. And here again before him the abyss of shit that hides in the sweating carcass.

Kylo gently placed the glasses on his long nose, removed the photo in his pocket of his jacket. And then, without warning, he slapped Unkar Plutt in the balls. The fat-ass screamed thinly and collapsed to his knees. Glad, that not dismantled leather gloves off, Kylo grabbed Plutt for the remnants of hair around the top of.

"Listen here very carefully," Kylo spoke sinisterly. "I'm not charging you an advance. And I will fuck your niece before I strangle her. I'll make it look like an accident and won’t open an investigation. But you will pay me one hundred grands and twenty from above. And you will not appear before my eyes until you get the money. Otherwise I'll find you and gut you alive. Got it?"

Plutt nodded and wet himself. Kylo let go of him, stepped over the fallen "employer" and went to the car. In parting, he said: "I'll be in touch."

He slammed the door and took off so that squealed tires.

Drove by twenty kilometers, he stopped on the roadside. Took out an open bottle of brandy from under the seat, pressed himself. Again took out photo. Rey, then. Judging by view, she will resist to the last. Vile guardian, shitty circumstances, her killer... Now Kylo could see she was beautiful, but only not aware of it.


	2. crested dog

His phone rang.

“We’ve got an arrest, where the fuck are you?” His partner Hux could be unbearable, but he’s always started with the main. 

“I’ll be there in an hour,” Kylo looked at the photo again. He would probably jerk off on it later.

“Then you’re taking that fucking jailbait to the loo yourself!” Hux hung up.

Kylo got a top speed of the Cadillac. On the city borders he slowed down and waved to the road cops. They wouldn’t fine him—why should they? No false witnesses here. But if something happens, it's coming back on him.

The precinct was deserted at this hour. Workers listlessly pretended to make repairs, officers mostly have been out on calls. Kylo walked along a smelly hall, loudly printing every step, and pushed the flimsy door of his office. Inside, among the mountains of cardboard folders, messing on the floor, he found the girl, handcuffed to the battery. Kylo froze on the doorstep. Apparently, he met Rey Plutt much sooner than he intended.

Kylo tossed files on the floor to sit on his desk. He reached out to the drawer and pulled out an ashtray full of cigarette butts and his own pack of smokes. Threw flavored Hux’s shit on the partner’s table: Kylo’d make fun of him about the habit of sucking candy later. He lit a cigarette.

“Want some?” He lazily asked the girl.

“Don’t smoke,” She answered boldly.

Kylo shrugged. He closed his eyes, enjoying the quick, greedy puffs.

“I changed my mind. I want a cigarette!” This Rey wedged in his mind 

Kylo took the pack, stood up, walked over to her and squatted. He held an unlit cigarette to her lips. Rey angrily bit down on the filter. Kylo flipped his fancy lighter and lit it.

Rey belatedly realized that she couldn’t smoke, while chained. She coughed and dropped the cigarette. Kylo caught a smoldering cigarette right over her bare knee and shoved it in his mouth, glaring: Rey’s shorts and her tank top is generally left little to the imagination.

“Give me some water!” She demanded.

“You’ll get water after you tell me, what the fuck are you doing in my office,” Kylo straightened up. “Wee business—after the full confession.”

The girl glared at him from under her brows, fidgeted, sitting back. Kylo grinned—clearly stalling for time. He could bet she’d spread her skinny, scratched and bruised legs, stick out small boobs and start crying that she "didn’t do anything wrong, it’s his fault!” or something like that. 

But Rey Plutt suddenly grimaced and rubbed her face against her forearm. Kylo was taken aback slightly, but then realized: she was trying to scratch without hands. He chuckled and leaned over to her, pulling the girl's nose delicately. Rey was perfectly still for a second and butted his hand with her head. Teeth clicked—like if she wanted to bite him down.

Kylo froze up. He hesitated, whether to give the little brat a small kick, so she stops putting on the dog, but Rey talked out—sparingly and dryly, like the speaker in the criminal chronicle. 

“I sell flowers on Flower street…”

Kylo couldn't resist and snorted, stifling a laugh. But she seriously looked at him, and he sat on the desk and struggled not to laugh.

“I sell flowers on Flower street,” Rey said with a push, and even some challenge. “I'm not a prostitute, not a beggar. I sell flowers.” 

“I got this, keep talking,” Kylo wanted to say, but managed to remain silent as she talked.

“The owner of the Jewelry store "The Cave of miracles", next to my workplace, offered me a job as a shopgirl. I went to him to find out what the job was. He showed me the shop and then took me to the studio. The jewellers and engravers were at lunchtime, apprentices had a break…” Rey chuckled. “Mr. Kiln put his arms around me and told me that I would bathe in this gold if I became his Galatea. He said that, as soon as he saw me with flowers, he immediately realized that I was a diamond in need of skillful cutting…” 

Rey looked Kylo in the eyes, and he looked away first, suddenly finding himself not ready to have staring contest with chained girl.

“Should I tell you, inspector, what kind of cutting are we talking about, or would you understand yourself?” Rey sounded like someone, who had nothing to lose. Kylo took another cigarette and sat in front of Rey on his haunches. He blew smoke in her face, returning her look. The one he reserved for the presumptuous bandits and impudent whores.

“He tried to get under my skirt,” Rey averted her eyes and began to cough. “I kicked him in the balls and ran. When I came home—the cops were waiting for me there. Face into the trunk, feet on width of shoulders—they restrained me and told me that I have the right to remain silent,” Rey said it all with a tongue twister. “They didn’t even care I was a minor!”

Rey sniffed and grimaced again. But Kylo saw—she was trying to hold the tears back. He took out a crumpled handkerchief and wiped her nose with a snort. But Rey Plutt—bat-shit crazy girl—abruptly blew her nose right in his arm! Kylo could not resist and laughed. The girl was brazen, but he couldn’t feel the vileness in her. Kylo vengefully left soiled handkerchief on her face and opened the handcuffs. Rey vaguely squeaked from under the handkerchief, cringed and huddled in a corner away from him. But Kylo was already on his feet and called the attendant.

“Get the applicant for theft of jewelry here to me, now!” He snapped on the phone and hung up. He looked at Rey, who struggled and tried to merge with battery.  
“The restroom is the second door down the hall to the left. If you don't come back in five minutes, there will be consequences, Galatea.…”

Rey flushed, sprang to her feet and darted to the door. Kylo lit another cigarette. Damn it, time to stop smoking. “The fuck I will!”—he muttered to himself and call to colleague from the department for crimes related to juveniles.

Mr. Kiln was well known as... an admirer of beauty. Lovely apprentices, young talents of jewelry business, were willingly yielded to Kiln by their mothers living in the disadvantaged area. He even organized some kind of school for the boys. Some of them didn't linger, but some stayed long enough. Once, Kylo run into a woman, who threw herself at his feet, begging to save her son from a hotbed of sodomy. Kylo shoved the howling woman away, but took the folder she jammed into his hands.

Seeing through exclamations and calls to the Lord, the Holy Trinity, and the President, Kylo realized, that Malek Kiln, a businessman, a moralist, and a profoundly religious man, had completely lost his shores. And that colleague of Kylo’s, who oversees juvenile cases, was not just showing off in the snug about hot chicks that just throw themselves on him. "Show the whore the stone from afar, she'll jump on your dick right away—with her cunt or her ass—upon your wish.” 

Speak of the devil! A boastful colleague, Sergeant Bruce Wilson, squeezed his round belly into the door, shaking his chins and blinking. Fat Bruce was one of those fuckers who could even piss himself, looking in Kylo’s mismatched eyes. Therefore, carefully glancing into the corner, Wilson set out to ask why the fuck Kylo needed the case, which was never opened. After all, a crazy woman came for her folder the next day, saying that she was drunk and made everything up, but Kylo sent her off.  
Then the door swung open and Mr. Kiln swam impressively into the room.

Tall and noble, Malek Kiln flaunted a simple but very expensive suit with a small silver cross on the lapel of his jacket and a cane with a silver knob. The expression of his thin, predatory face froze somewhere between disgust and condescension. However, the image of the noble lord was slightly spoiled by the air conditioner over the door: the downward air flow tore his perfectly laid white hair, giving the jeweler similarity with the crested dog. 

Kylo coached stony expression over the years for the good reason. He didn't show he saw Sergeant Wilson's terrified face and twitched jeweler's eye. And he was very pleased that there we cameras in the office. Confrontation between the fan of stones in the cunts and the supplier of those cost a lot... Kylo was thinking about making screenshots from the recording for his own advantage, when the door opened again, revealing Rey Plutt. She stepped foot in and froze.


	3. about morality

Kylo hasn’t offered The Jeweler to sit down. He grinned rapaciously and beckoned to the girl. By one finger, ostentatiously so. Decided not to push her luck, Rey obeyed. Kylo moved the free chair, roughly put his hand on Rey’s shoulder and pushed her, forcing her to sit down.

“Hands,” he commanded. Rey reached out her hands under the gaze of the grinning businessman, and Kylo cuffed them to the front. Girl was ready to cry—Kylo was pausing for effect—but she managed to hold her tears back. The one who the first lose patience, was Kiln.

“Is there a problem with my testimony?” The Jeweller asked. He took a chair and sat down, looking too important.

“Tell me again,” Kylo lit a cigarette and exhaled the smoke into the jeweler's face.

Bruce “Fatso” Wilson tried to escape quietly. Kylo sharply threw up his hand and blocked The Lover of Whores and Stones the way to retreat. The fat man stopped abruptly, snorted like a pig. He reminded Kylo of Unkar Plutt.

“Wait. We're gonna need the case you brought. And your experience with offences against minors,” Kylo said softly. He looked searchingly at Kiln. And didn't miss the moment when one of the hunter become the hunted. Now it remains only to catch the prey.

The Jeweler was nervous. He gripped his cane tighter. His eyes darted between Wilson and Rey.

“The girl came into my shop. She asked me to hire her as a cleaner. She appeared just at the moment when I showed the client the pearls... I got sidetracked to throw that little rat out of my shop. And then customer screamed—she saw that the girl tries to pull off a ring from a counter... Thief threw a ring and ran away. I wrote a statement to the police. That's all.”

Kiln pulled himself together. He even managed to regain his former unflappable appearance. Kylo gave him a nasty grin and blew smoke into the ceiling. He yanked the file out of Bruce's hand and rummaged through it.

“What woman?” Kylo dropped the question, without looking up from his business.

“Excuse me?” The Jeweler's voice was colder than the ice cream truck in the Arctic.

Kylo took the cigarette out of his mouth and put it on the table next to Kyln's sleek palm. The businessman involuntarily withdrew his hand.

“I. Said. What. Woman. Who pointed to Rey Plutt?”

“M—mother of one of my students...” Kiln bleated. 

“Name!” Kylo barked, striking the table with his hand. He also jerked to Kiln as if about to strike him. Kiln staggered back with his chair. Almost fell backwards.

“Madam... Finn,” He stammered.

Kylo grinned rapaciously and threw on the table a couple of pictures from Bruce’s folder. The first one is blurry, where you can see Kiln swinging a cane at someone tied to a bench. It was Madame Finn, who threw herself at Kylo's feet, begging the police to save her child. She shook this picture Kylo in the face and shouted that Kiln tortures her 14-year-old son. But then she denied it... The second photo was of herself and Mr. Kiln, who handing her a wad of banknotes.

“This student? This woman?” Kylo asked softly. “I think I'm starting to remember....”

He pointedly tapped his finger on his lips, looked back at Bruce, who was still trying to escape the office.

“She even bring a certificate of mental-health issues when she came to take back her statement against you, Mr. Kiln. We stopped the investigation..,” Kylo defiantly spread his hands, knowing full well that the investigation had not begun at all. “But since you say you trust this woman's testimony in a case as serious as theft…”

Kylo didn't have time to finish. Kiln and Wilson started yelling at the same time—not fucking clear about what.

“Shut up!” Kylo once again hit his fist on the table. And grabbed Rey’s shoulder as she jerked in fear and tried to jump up.

“You,” Kylo said, not looking at Bruce. “Get the fuck out of here! And as for your testimony, Mr. Kiln, we'll be conducting an inquiry.…”

“There was no theft!” The Jeweler screamed, ruffled his hair with a shaking hand. “I'm sure Madame Finn was wrong.…”

“Of course there was,” Kylo sympathetically threw his hands. “That's your own words! All recorded…”

And then The Jeweler did something, that even Kylo, who had seen all kinds of shit all his life, wasn't expecting. Kiln grabbed the papers from the table and began feverishly to cram them in his own mouth!

Kylo dealt with the confusion. He waited until Kiln eat some of the evidence, and some of it tear apart. And then held out in a velvet voice: “You forgot something.”

Kylo picked up the biggest piece of paper from the dirty floor and crumpled it. He grabbed The Jeweler by the throat, gripping his flaccid neck with iron grip in leather glove. Slack-jawed, Kiln wheezed. And Kylo shoved the crumpled piece of paper into Kiln’s mouth, watched him choke.

“Mr. Kiln,” Kylo said slowly and separately. “You are a champion of morality and an example for society. So once again you try to fuck underage, you'll get fucked in the holding cell. Especially after those pictures of the boy, who you whipped. Hide in your cave of miracles and jerk off quietly, without sticking out. Because I'm watching you. And next time, you'll be paying off half your business, got it?”

“Who's that bitch to you?” Kiln croaked.

“Nothing,” Kylo said. “I'll fuck her myself later. Let's just say we heard each other. Now get the fuck out.”

The Jeweler run out of the office, forgetting even his own cane. Kylo stripped his slobbered glove and thrown it in the trash. Then he light a cigarette.

“Are you really going to fuck me?” Rey Plutt asked suddenly.

“What do you think?” Kylo chuckled.

He finished his cigarette, undid Rey’s cuffs, took her roughly by the shoulder—to make sure there were bruises, and led her to the porch of the police station.

“Listen here, baby doll. Do not walk around grown men, even if they offer you a candy,” Kylo said mockingly. “I caught you once again, I'll put you in jail.”

Kylo smacked her ass with ungloved hand, and Rey rolled down the steps with a cry of pain. After that Kylo turned around and went to dig through much less interesting cases. He will see again this Rey very soon, when he decide what to do with her.

It's been a bad day since this morning. Everyone seemed to be conspiring to piss Ren off. The owner of a brothel in the suburbs got so brazen that he brought a bribe directly to Kylo’s office. And so long counted the greasy bills on the Ren’s desk. Kylo frowned and thought the bills must have been in pussies and butts of many whores. And it would be better not to take this money without gloves.

“Are you trading minors?” Kylo asked.

“Want some?” The Pimp perked up.

“If I find out you're selling minors on my turf, I'll make them put on a strap-on and fuck you without lube. Got it?” Kylo concluded.

Pimp finely nodded and merged out of the office. Kylo, with his elbow, swept the banknotes into the evidence bag and threw it on the cabinet. Then he told Hux to go fuck himself—just like that. Hux wasn’t offended, but in response didn’t share the whiskey with Kylo. Ren had to stomp for booze to his car and squarely on the street, under rain, pouring an excellent brandy in shitty coffee. He came back, repeating a mantra: "More year. One more year and I'm out."

Kylo sent in a trash the statement for rape from the local whore Paige, already the twentieth in a row. She always peed on her boyfriend after another fight. And then she'd come back and take her words—and her testimony—back. For a pathetic look, she always smeared mascara and lipstick on her cheeks.

When the hand of the wall clock crept to six in the evening, Kylo locked the office with a symbolic flimsy lock and went out. The rain was over, the evening breathed freshness. But strange pacification pleased Kylo not for so long. Already on the way to the rented apartment some kind of jerk dared to cut Kylo off. Kylo overtook him, regrouped in front of him and braked sharply. He calculated everything, and the accident did not happen. But he thought with a grin, getting out of the car, that the driver must have shitting his pants.

The jerk got scared when he saw Kylo. Ren was well known in the city, but not so many people know his car; he changed his cars very often. But something else angered Kylo—sitting next to driver a pregnant chick with bruises on her face and hands. And on the back seat a boy of about six, frowning at Kylo, and a baby in a carry-on, strapped in the wrong way, crying out loud.

Kylo beckoned the driver to him. He got out, immediately took out a wallet. But Kylo tore out his wallet and threw it in the dirt. Then Kylo wrung the driver's hand and cracked his head on the hood—special start the conversation.

“Today I was thinking about my untimely dead sister,” Kylo said confidentially, leaning toward the driver. Looking into the man's eyes, which were round with horror, Kylo remembered that his name was Roy. And that the neighbors of this couple are already sick of calling the hotline about the screams behind the wall. “I loved her very much.”

He never had a sister. He himself was born by accident—his mother get pregnent unplanned. His parents regretted about this shit and did not last long together.

“And I wanted to wish you, Roy, have a good day. And what do I see? Your girl looks so much like my sister!” Kylo hit Roy's face on the chipped hood. “But I was very upset seeing bruises on her. You see, Roy, you can't hit pregnant women. So tell me, right or left?”

“Forgive me, inspector Ren, I don't understand,“ Roy wheezed through the bloody snot. He wasn't really trying to get away. Everyone knew that Ren was crazy, and nobody want to make him angry.

“I'll break your right or left hand, it’s your choice,” Ren enlightened him. “Next time, it'll be your jaw. Because you can't hit pregnant women who look like my dead sister. Clear?”

And then Kylo broke Roy's three fingers on his right hand. Fucker will live, he will be able to drive. But make a fight is unlikely. Ren shook the shit out of the man, walked around the car and open the door. Ignoring the whimpering child and the petrified mother, he asked the older boy: “What’s your name?”

“Kai,” The boy vaguely replied. And looked at the window at moaning Roy.

“Namesake, i see. I'm Kylo Ren. It’s your dad?” Kylo asked, lighting a cigarette.

“N-no,” Kai shook his head.

“Listen here,” Kylo dragged on. “You see, your mother is brainless cow, but you probably love her, so here's what you do. Always carry a knife to defend yourself. And next time your stepdad hit someone, you call the police.”

“Already did it,” Kai was skeptical. “They say they'll come when there's a body.”

“Use my name if you have to,” Kylo added affectionately. “I will come then, and the corpse there will be.”

Glancing at the pregnant woman, Kylo raised two fingers to his hat.

“Have a good day, madam,” Once again stepped on Roy's injured arm, Kylo went to his car.

But the violence didn't lift Kylo's spirits even to the level of "fine." Hated the whole world, he put pressure on the gas. Stupid bitches like that in the car, they stick to the bad guys first. Then, when all goes to hell, they will hide it until the last. Fuck the children, especially the unborn. Found a fucker—good, that’s good, but airing your dirty laundry in public you just can’t. These are the people who are the most terrified of all reports from the social bottom and they vote to remove sex education lessons from the school curriculum. And thanks to them, a new generation of angry and unhappy children is growing up.

Morality—so much for that fucking word. Everything has to be decent! The townsfolk hush up the problems, shove the skeletons in the cabinets, insist that in their lovely town everything was wonderful. Until came "this terrible inspector Ren, for whom there is nothing sacred". In their world there is no drugs, there is no early sex, pregnancies, suicide. Just fucking lawns and whitewashed fences! And dirty porn on the computer under password.

The road ended sooner than Kylo’s bile. He parked at the bar above which he rented an apartment. Then nodded to the owner behind the counter—former boxer Joe. Hastily ate some refried and peppered shit. Joe didn't bother about the food, Peple came to his bar to drink. Finally Kylo went up on the iron outer stairs to the second floor.


End file.
